


Royai Week 2016

by andrastes_grace



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Ishval Civil War, One Shot Collection, Past Violence, Royai Week, Royai Week 2016, War Crimes, Young!Royai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7127222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrastes_grace/pseuds/andrastes_grace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My contributions to Royai Week 2016.  Some angst, some fluff, some crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first prompt was 'Warmth'.
> 
> I seriously meant to go happy and fluffy with this. I'm really sorry.

The wedding ceremony was beautiful.  Following so much death and horror, the serenity of the occasion didn’t seem real, not when the stench of Ishval still clung to the two of them.  But it had been Gracia’s choice.  She wanted to be married before orders had the chance to take Maes to a different war on a different boarder.  With the current tensions running through Amestris it had been easy to understand her worry.

It was clear that wherever Maes was during the ceremony it was a long, long way from Ishval.  He possibly wasn’t even at the wedding.  He and Gracia couldn’t look away from each other, their hands clasped together.  For them no other person existed in the world at that moment, it was just the two of them, exchanging promises that were more than words.

 

The night before – after the third of fourth drink celebrating (Maes was insistent on that.  That was a celebration, not a mourning) the end of Maes’ bachelorhood – Maes had asked, suddenly completely serious, if he deserved this.

There wasn’t an answer for that.  As the best friend – and best man – Roy knew he should say yes, but he could still smell the blood and see the faces of those they’d murdered.

But he hadn’t said no.  That wasn’t right either.

"Gracia does."  Gracia hadn’t been at Ishval.  She’d owned a flower shop and the closest she’d been to the war had been the reports from the newspapers and on the radio.  Those had talked about the bravery of the Amestrian troops, and how the State Alchemists had turned the tide of battle.

It was easy for her to be proud of Maes.

 

The day after the wedding Roy returned to work.  He met with a sniper – a young woman who had proved herself during the Ishvalan war, but whose eyes had lost the light and warmth Roy remembered from when they were both younger.  They’d exchanged vows of their own that day, colder than the ones exchanged by Maes and Gracia.  It was the promise of two people who could no longer claim any innocence, but also the promise of two people who could still protect those who were.


	2. Colours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second prompt was 'Colours'.
> 
> This is set after the fight with Father, before Roy's eyes get healed. It's also the first piece of Royai I'd written in five years.
> 
> Despite being under 300 words long I changed tense about 10 times. Hopefully I caught them all.

It was dark when he opened his eyes, but that was only to be expected.  He’d dreamt in colour, and seen the battlefield where they’d fought Father (he’d had eyes for that, even if they weren’t his own) but that had faded when he’d woken.

He waved a hand in front his face – hoping – but there was nothing.

The Truth was cruel.

He slumped back into the pillows.  He didn’t know if ‘defeated’ was the right word for what he felt, but it was a start to describe it.

"Are you alright, sir?" the voice was hoarse, but still the most beautiful sound in the world.  She sounded close, and he turned to face its direction.  He didn't need his sight to know that face.

"Am I - ?  You should worry about yourself, Lieutenant."

There was a cough – harsh and unhealthy - but it was only because she was laughing.  "I’ll be fine.  I’m still under orders, aren’t I?"

He smiled at that, and knows she did too.

"Of course."

"Good.  Hold out your hand, sir.  There’s something I need to give you."

He obliged, letting his hand fall into the space between their beds.  He felt the pressure of her fingers curling around his and he squeezed them back, very gently.

And for a while, the moment was perfect.


	3. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry I wrote this.
> 
> There's no excuse.
> 
> I'm so frigging sorry.

Roy: wow the stars are beautiful.

Risa: yeah they are.

Roy: you know what else is beautiful?

Risa: *blushes* who?

Roy: A bloodless coup overthrowing our military dictatorship and the installation of a democratic government.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a reference to this meme: http://memedocumentation.tumblr.com/post/136320094575/explained-wow-the-stars-are-beautiful-meme 
> 
> It was seriously the only thing I could think of for this prompt.
> 
> I'm so sorry.


	4. Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day four's prompt is 'forgotten'. 
> 
> Have some young!Royai fluff.

It was a lovely day, and the Hawkeye estate was large.  Risa had found a quiet spot under her favourite tree to read and enjoy the warm glow of the sun through the thick leaves.

Nearly everywhere was quiet in her home, however.  For the longest time it had just been Risa and her father.  While she’d had friends at school there were few she’d been close enough with to invite to stay, and those she had quickly excused themselves before long.  The house tended to have that effect on people – it was a place too full of old memories, and had forgotten how to make new ones.  The stillness of the estate when she returned to in her holidays had always seemed a world away from the noise and life of her school.  Risa couldn’t remember what the house had been like when her mother was still alive.  She knew it had been happier but she had forgotten what the atmosphere of the house been like when it had been a place of living.

Dead.  That’s what it felt like.  Her mother had died and her father had stopped living – the only things he cared about where his study, his books and his secrets, and the house and grounds decayed around them.

Where she was sitting – under a growing tree and in the light of the sun – it was the one place in the estate that still felt alive.

Risa looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.  She was surprised to see Roy Mustang coming into view, although on reflection she realised that it had been unlikely to be anyone else.  Her father never left the house if he could avoid it.  He hadn’t ever seemed interested in taking on an apprentice until Roy.  He’d lived with them for several months now, and yet Risa was still uncertain of what to make of him.

"Excuse me, Miss Hawkeye. I didn’t realise you’d be here." He always called her ‘Miss Hawkeye’. She didn’t know if he was that formal with everyone, or simply being polite.

"I often come here to read."

"Ah.  So do I."  He was holding a book, a notebook and a pen.  "Do you mind –"

"No, of course not." She was becoming very aware that this was possibly the longest she’d spoken to Roy since he’d arrived.  He sat down next to her, leaning back against the tree.

"I thought you and my father were working together all day?"

"We were, but Master Hawkeye had other matters he wished to pursue today.  So – I’m here.  I’m surprised we haven’t met here before."

Risa wasn’t sure how to response to that.  "Do you enjoy studying under my father?" She asked instead.  She didn’t know much about alchemy, but she also didn’t know much about Roy except he liked alchemy.  It seemed a safe topic.

"I do.  I’m learning a great deal.  Your father is amazing."  Roy’s smile was delightful, she realised.  He’d seemed so intense when she saw him with her father, it was nice to see he knew how to smile.

"Can I ask what you’re reading?  You seemed very engrossed in it earlier."

His question took her by surprise.

"Oh.  It’s – it’s nothing important."

But there was that smile again, and blushing Risa turned the cover so he could read it.

" _By Any Other Name – A Tale of Love on the Battlements"_ He read the title out loud, taking in the lurid cover – a woman in a deep purple dress being embraced by a muscular, shirtless man.  "I’ve read this one!"

"You… have?"  She felt that he was making fun of her.

"One of my, uh," he hesitated, "sisters loves them.  She’s leant me nearly the whole series."

"Really?"

"You don’t believe me? It’s not as good as _Ambassador of Love_ but I liked it."

She couldn’t help herself and laughed.

His enthusiasm was infectious and for a moment her own loneliness was forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weak ending is weak but that’s why I don’t write fluff, I guess.
> 
> Teenage Roy and Risa are romance novel fans. I’m sorry, but I don’t make the rules.
> 
> If you want to see the romance novels mentioned then check out this post: http://dragonageinquisitionart.tumblr.com/post/145319729322/love-on-the-battlements-x-the-series-that-has


	5. Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Five was 'music'. I had a lot of trouble with this one, so it's even shorter than the others.

There’s an art to it.

He can’t see the battlefield – anything – and yet the two of them work in perfect synchronization.

_Did I hit him?_

_You were off by just a few feet, sir.  Adjust your aim five degrees to the right._

Risa was pressed against his side, not out of affection but from a need for support.  She shouldn’t be on the battlefield, Roy knew that, but then again, neither should he.

They were useless apart.  But right now – they were a symphony.


	6. Ignite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.
> 
> This went… in a direction I wasn’t expecting.
> 
> I’ve just realised that my definition if ‘royai’ to ‘throw these two together in a super stressful situation. If they’re both present then it’s royai.’
> 
> I hope it’s clear what’s happening if in this fic. All the bits in italtics comes from the Viz media translation of volume 15.

The battlefield burned.

Alchemy was for the people – to protect the people.

_You’re all that’s left.  Do you have any last words?_

There’s no emotion there.  The other man responded with a bitter smile,

 _I will never forgive you_.

And yet the people burned.

 

And it was over.

_To us you’re a hero_

The word means nothing.

_Thanks to you, all these soldiers managed to survive._

A handful of soldiers, a fraction of men.

 

It was over.

A body by the roadside, and a nameless grave.

 _Inside me the war isn’t over yet_.

She’d trusted him, the girl at the grave.

A different grave, a different girl.

 _No, it will never end as long as I live_.

 

Ignite – to cause fire.  To catch fire.

A request – a promise.

There can never be another flame alchemist.

 

 _Help me protect this nation_.

She’d trusted him.  Listened to those words talk of a future neither of them could now hold.

_I will protect you_

The Hero of Ishval.  He’d managed to save them, at least.

_Charlie, Fabio, Alexander, Dino, Albert, Roger, Damino._

A handful of names.  A handful of men.

 _In turn you will protect as many others as possible_.

 

Ignite – to inflame an emotion or situation.

It was naïve, idealistic.

But there was a place in the world for this.

_Do you accept?_

Her answer is without hesitation.

_I do.  I will follow you into hell if you ask me._


	7. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final prompt for the week is Choices.
> 
> All dialogue is from the Viz media translation of chapter 101.

Dying wasn’t painful.

Dying was painful.

The blade had sliced through her throat.  She could feel the blood and the sharp jolt of pain through her shoulder as her body hit the stone floor.

"Lieutenant!  Lieutenant, pull yourself together!  Can you hear me?"

She could hear him – he was frantic, desperate.  Every other sound was incomprehensible, but the colonel’s voice was as clear as if he was next to her.

 _Focus_ she pressed a hand to her throat.  The copper-tasting smell of blood filled the air.  _Too much.  Focus_.

She could hear the Gold Toothed Doctor talking, but the words were muffled and distant.  She focused the scraping of her body on the ground as she was dragged to the circle.

It was real.  It meant she was alive.

Risa focused on Roy’s voice, trying to force her vision to let his face come into view.  He was here.  She was here.  They were alive.

She heard Roy screaming something at the Gold Toothed Doctor, and finally the other voices came into focus.

"…or you can hold out until this woman is dead and resurrect her.  That would be fine too."

 _He can’t._   _I won’t…_

"I won’t die"  Her own voice doesn’t sound real, and every word is a strain.  The Gold Toothed Doctor’s face looms over her.  He heard her.  "I’ve… been given orders.  Not to die."

She doesn’t hear his response.  Not entirely.  It’s not important to her in anyway.  All that matters is Roy’s face.  They’ve never needed words.  Not on the battlefield – not anywhere.

"What will you do, Mustang?"

 _He doesn’t ever stop talking_.  She wants to laugh.  It’s funny, even if she’s not sure why.  _Focus.  Focus._

"A woman whose dear to you lies bleeding.  Without treatment, she’ll be dead in minutes.  Of course – it doesn’t have to end that that way.  It all hinges on your choice."

There’s always been a choice.  Her choice.  Join the army.  Hold the rifle.  Her choice to trust, her choice to burn.

His eyes haven’t left her.

"Colonel."  The words are harder now.  "Don’t… attempt human transmutation.  It’s not… worth it."

Without words she tells him everything.

Roy looks down.  Whatever pain he has is his, not for Gold Toothed Doctor or his men to see.

"Alright."  The word is as soft and as welcome as a kiss.

"Ah!  Then you’ll do it!"

_He needs to die._

Roy ignores him.  When he meets her eyes again, his expression is clear and focused.  The man she would follow into hell.

"Alright, Lieutenant.  I won’t do human transmutation."

Her choice.  Always her choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a lot of fun writing these prompts over the last week. I'm the worst at actually finishing projects, so I was determined to sit down and write thing a day for this challange. And I did it! Okay, they're not great, but I'll probably return to a lot of them an expand them.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading through them.


End file.
